


Random ficlets to ease depression

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Humor, Multi-Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2004-07-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3746371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of (very random) ficlets.  Some are depressing, some are humour based, but most are about Legolas and Aragorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hapy Birthday, Estel!

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Legolas rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling. The sun had only just begun to rise. After a short while he realised that what had woken him up was a noise coming from the room next door. And it had not stopped yet. Slowly Legolas stood up, and stretched like a cat. Not bothering to throw anything over his nightshirt he wandered into Estel's room to find out what was worth waking him up. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning lazily on the doorpost. Elladan and Elrohir stopped attacking Estel to look at the Silvan prince. Estel took advantage of their diverted attention and hit them both on the head with the pillow he had been using as a shield. With a cry and a laugh the twins set upon their human brother again, Elladan hitting Estel with the pillow he had "borrowed" from Estel, then Elrohir doing the same so that Estel had no chance of getting them. "Elladan! Elrohir! Estel! Stop it, please. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Elladan asked, not turning round again. "Want to join in? I think Estel need some help."

"But why?"

Elrohir laughed, and was tipped off the bed by Estel. He stood up, and brushed the long, dark hair away from his eye before trotting over to Legolas. "Do we really need a reason to have a pillow fight with our dear, darling, brother? Anyway, he started it!"

Estel had rescued the pillow that Elrohir had dropped, and was now getting his revenge on Elladan. "'It was not I! They just came in and started to attack me. I only retorted in self-defence."

Legolas raised his hands. "Save your excuses for Lord Elrond. You are going to need them." The Silvan elf moved to the chair by the fireplace, picking up the boxes that sat on it. As he sat down he looked at one curiously. "What are these?" 

Elrohir had joined the fight again, and rescued his pillow. He risked a quick glance round, and was dealt a clip round the back of the head by Estel's pillow. "Estel's birthday presents. He is twenty-one today, and he has told me that it is a special age for humans. However, I do not know whether he is to be believed as he has told me that about his age for the last ten years."

"Birthday?" Asked Legolas, laying down the box on the bed side table, before realising what danger it would be in there and putting it on the mantle piece. "Is this some strange human celebration?"

"Oi!" Estel laughed, throwing his pillow at the elf-prince. Too late he realised his mistake, and reached for the last pillow that lay on his bed. "But, yes, I suppose it is."

"Humans have this strange way of celebrating the day they were born on. With Estel you would have thought that you would want to forget that, but he has always insisted that we give him presents anyway."

Legolas threw the pillow back to Estel, but Elladan caught it instead. "I am sorry, Estel, I did not know. I have not got you anything. Do you mind?"

Estel sat up, forcing the twins off him. "Truce." He said to his brothers. "Truce!" He repeated when they ignored him. "What part of truce do you not understand? Will I need to spell it out for you?" When Elladan and Elrohir laid down their pillows Estel turned to his friend. "Of course I do not mind. I had not told you about my birthday; I did not expect you to know. Do not worry about it, mellon-nin." Suddenly he lunged for his pillow. "All right, truce over!"

~ * ~

Legolas slipped into the blue tunic that lay on the chair by his bed, leaving his hair loose. The Silvan prince secured his knife to his belt, but left his bow and quiver in the corner where they had been since he went hunting with Estel and the twins a few days ago. Still barefooted he padded out onto the balcony. 

//It is not so different from my one at home. // He thought absent-mindedly as he swung himself into the branches of the tree that grew entwined with Imladris. //Maybe they built Imladris round the trees. // Silently the wood-elf jumped from the tree, to land sure-footed on the forest floor, and bound into the mottled light of the woods around Imladris. 

It did not take Legolas very long to find what he wanted; a fallen tree with some large, but sure branches. He sat down on the floor, avoiding the snowdrops, which were in full-bloom, and took his knife from its sheaf. 

~ * ~

"Estel? Are you coming down to breakfast?" Elladan poked his head into Estel's room. 

"Yes, 'Dan. Wait for me." Estel pulled his trousers on quickly, and went to join Elladan. "Have you seen Legolas?"

"Not since earlier on, no. Why?"

"He is not in his room."

"We probably just missed him. You will never guess who turned up during the night!"

"Who?"

"Halbarad, and he has brought you a present too."

"Oh. Yay." Estel had enjoyed the company of Halbarad and the Rangers, until he had been told he was one of them, and what is more, their leader. Since then he had tried to keep away from them as much as possible. 

"Are you all right Estel? You do not mind do you? You have been a little cold to Halbarad lately."

"I know . . . I just do not like . . . you know."

"No I do not. But it does not matter. It is your birthday! Be happy!" Elladan did not press the matter, as last time they had Estel had ran away, and nearly been killed.

"Elladan! Estel! How *long* does it take you? Come on, you slow coaches, every one is waiting." Elrohir bounced up to his brothers, grabbed their hands and began to drag them along the corridor. A sudden peal of thunder stopped the three. 

"Oh no! Please do not tell me that it is raining . . ."

"Sorry Estel. It is absolutely tipping it down." Elrohir answered. 

"Well, there goes our picnic." Elladan sighed. 

Estel laughed suddenly. "It may not be! Knowing March it will have ended by the time we finish breakfast. Come on, last to the dining hall is . . . is a dopey dwarf!" Within seconds the three had set off and were laughing and joking again. 

"Maybe we aught to walk, 'Ro. Give Estel a sporting chance."

"No way! He cheated; it will serve him right when we beat him."

"Hey, I did not cheat. It was just you two, you were not paying attention properly."

"Keep dreaming, Estel."

Elladan, Elrohir and Estel burst into the dining hall and rushed to their seats. There was a bit of a scramble as Estel stole Elrohir's cutlery, and then everything died down a bit. 

"If you three have quite finished." Elrond said.

"For now, Atar, for now." 

The dining hall doors were pushed open again, and a very wet Legolas entered. He had been caught out in the rain, and although he had changed his clothes his hair was dripping, soaking the new set. A water drop fell from his nose, as he came to sit next to Estel. 

"Do not say a word." He growled. "Not one single word."

Estel opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Elladan and Elrohir, however, did not have the sense to do the same. 

"You look wet, mellon-nin."

"Been for a walk in the rain?"

"You would look wet too if you have been caught out in *that*." Legolas pointed outside, where it was still pouring with rain. "But, I get to blame my dear friend Estel for that."

"Wha-?" Estel asked, his mouth full. He swallowed quickly. "Why is it *my* fault?"

"Because, O human, I was caught out in the rain while trying to make you a present." As Legolas said this he started to go through his pockets. "Which I have now lost." He added, eventually. 

Elrond leaned over to them. "Legolas, have you changed your tunic?"

Legolas laughed. "Yes. Thank-you." He quickly went to fetch the present he had made for his friend. On making his way back down to his seat again he presented Estel with a small wooden box, which he had carved. It had the elf-rune "E" carved into its lid. "Here, Estel. Happy birthday."

Estel laughed, and his face lit up. He embraced his friend. "Hannon lye, mellon-nin. But I was quite content just to have you here. Your friendship is the greatest gift any man could ask for."


	2. Archery Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of (very random) ficlets. Some are depressing, some are humour based, but most are about Legolas and Aragorn.

The young elf brought his long bow up for a shot, the green fletched arrow already notched on the string. He grasped the handle in his left hand, loosely, and pulled the string to the side of his head so that his fingers were in line with his deep grey eye. His long, blonde hair was tied back in a lose plait, like all the other archers, to stop it from being caught in the bow. Slowly he brought the target into sight, sighted, waited for a little while, and then released his grip of the string. The arrow flew through the air to land in the top left of the target. The young elf let his breath out in a rush. It was okay, it was okay, that was only his first arrow, and he had another five. Swiftly he reached into the leather quiver attached to his back, and notched it to his string.

//Hold up the bow, sight, good, and draw back . . . right to the side of your face, sight again . . . hold it, and release! //

Silently the youngster ran through the motions of shooting his bow, which had been a gift from his father for his fifteenth birthday. He had been shooting for a little over a year now, and had managed to get a third class badge, but had been becoming worse and worse (to his eyes) since then. He had not managed to get one second class score yet, which was depressing when you were surrounded on the field by elven archers who were getting master bowman scores everyday. Still, the elf persisted; no matter how bad his scores were, turning up everyday for an hour of archery before moving on to his sword lessons, which were going an awful lot better.

The young elf released the bow for the third time, but this time he caught it on his sleeve; he had not been holding his arm loose enough.

//No matter. I still, have another three. Keep trying, keep persisting and you'll get there some day. //

Even though he tried to keep his thoughts happy as he readjusted his wrist guard, depressing thoughts just seemed to creep through his guard.

//You will never be an archer like you're father. You will be regarded as a failure all through Greenwood . . .//

His fourth and fifth arrows missed the target, which had been set up fifty yards away specially for the younger elf that could not shoot one hundred like the elder ones. His last arrow also missed, and a sob ran through his body as he caught the string viciously on his left arm. He dropped the bow, tears welling to his eyes as he ran from the practising field into the surrounding woodland.

"Sir, you must . . ." but the rest of the cry was lost to him, as he ran through the trees, his young, lithe body easily outstripping the elder elf.

It was ten hours later that he was found, huddling in a hollow, high up in an oak tree, teas staining his face, his eyes half lidded in sleep. As his father picked him carefully out of the hollow he flickered into consciousness.

"Ada*?"

"Shh, Yondo**, I'm here now."

"I will never be an archer like you, ada. I will always be a failure . . ."

"Nay, you will be the greatest archer that ever came from Greenwood. I foresee that you will shoot down a great terror from the skies. Do not fear, little one, you cannot become a great archer in just a year! Tomorrow I will come down to the practice field with you, and then we will see what we can do for you."

"But ada, what about your duties?"

"You are my son, and I will not see you unhappy, and neither will the people of Greenwood."

"Ni mellyë***, Ada . . ." The young elf whispered as sleep took him again. His father wiped the tears from his face, gently.

"Sleep well, my little one." Thranduil whispered just as quietly. "Sleep well, Legolas Cuthailion."

~ ~ ~

*Ada = Father (quenya)

** Yondo = son (quenya)

*** Ni mellyë = I love you (quenya)


	3. Of Hopeful Hearts and Elven Laughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of (very random) ficlets. Some are depressing, some are humour based, but most are about Legolas and Aragorn.

Elladan and Elrohir came into the feasting hall, still dressed in the hunting clothes that they had worn on the way to Mirkwood. They looked for their brother, but couldn't see the ranger's darker hair amongst the blonde Silvan elves. However, they did spot Legolas, sitting in the corner of the great room and looking very moody. Elladan and Elrohir walked over to him and sat down, Elladan on his left and Elrohir on his right.

"Mae govannen, mellon-nín*." Elladan greeted his friend.

"What has left you in such a mood?" Added Elrohir. Legolas simply shrugged and drowned the mug of mead that sat in front of him. He really had been around Estel for too long.

"Where is Estel?" Elladan asked, looking around quickly as if hoping to see him. "He came to see you, did he not?"

"Yé, yes, he came here." Legolas sighed, slipping in and out of the elven tongue. "But I have seen little of him."

"Do you know where he is now?" The question seemed to make Legolas (if it was possible) more depressed then ever. He shrugged again, avoiding answering the twins.

"Is he harmed, Legolas?"

The elven prince snorted loudly, something else he would not have done before he became friends with the human. "Hurt? Nay, except for in his heart."

"Then where is he? And why will you not tell us where he is?"

"I do not know his exact whereabouts, only where he will be. And it is not that I do not wish to tell you of how your brother . . ." Legolas was interrupted by the arrival of Gelir and Silros, two of Legolas's friends, who sat down opposite the twins and Legolas.

"Is Estel . . .?" Gelir did not need to finish his question, Legolas knew what it would be and nodded.

"Oh, Ráivalar** . . . Just tell us where Estel is, what he has done, or what has happened to him." Elladan burst out. Gelir and Silros laughed, the smaller elf answering the older twin's request.

"Estel has fallen in love with Méla."

Elrohir laughed, as panic crossed Elladan's fair face. "Méla Melërárimba***?"

"The very same."

"I though she dwelt in Lothlórien!?"

"Nay, she came here for a visit."

"Speaking of Méla . . . here she comes!"

"Oh no, hide me! And Elrohir! Quickly." Elladan moaned. Legolas pushed him under the table, and Elrohir followed here, shaking with suppressed laughter. A fair maiden walked up to them, dressed in white, her long, dark hair falling down her back.

"Oh, hello, Legolas, fancy seeing you here." She said in a high voice, ignoring Gelir and Silros. "That friend of yours, Estel, he's very cute, kind of sweet, don't you think."

Legolas frowned. "Sweet? He is a ranger of the north, I do not think that sweet would suffice."

"Oh, that is true enough, he is no doubt a mighty warrior, just like you." She said, the sweetness in her voice attracting several million metaphoric ants, and several male elves. "Sorry, I cannot stay longer, but I need to have my hair done for the ball tonight." With that she floated off, her usual train of boys following in her stead. Elladan climbed out from under the table, wearily.

"Has she gone?"

"Yes. Ten hours to do her hair? Surely not?"

"I think . . ."

"Yes, she loves me. But I feel like staying a bachelor a while yet. Why did you have to hide? And where is Elrohir?"

"Having a laughing fit and. . ." Elladan blushed, his normally pale skin turning bright pink. "And I used to go out with her . . ." Elrohir emerged from under the table, his face also red from tying not to laugh.

"Oh, this is too much!" He exclaimed, gulping down another set of laughs. "Méla is here, Estel has fallen in love with him, she calls him sweet, and she has a crush on Legolas. Oh, too much!" He fell to the fall, shaking silently.

"You'd best leave him. He'll be like that for a while yet. When he recovers we'll go and rescue Estel . . ."

It took a good ten minutes for Elrohir to recover, and then Elladan and Elrohir went to find Estel, arguing amongst themselves.

Twenty minutes later Estel ran into the room, espied Legolas and came over to his table. He grabbed his mug and drowned the liquid that it had just been refilled with.

"I am *never* falling in love again." He declared. "I can't believe I have the same taste in girls as my *brother*! And she called me "Sweet"!"

The sound of Elven laughter echoed up to the ceiling of the fair hall, as Legolas laughed. It was good to have his friend back!

~ ~ ~

* Mae govannen, mellon-nín = Well met, my friend.

** Ráivalar = By the Valar (quenya)

*** Melërárimba = loved by many (quenya)


End file.
